© 2014 Sarah M. Eden.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the publisher, Shadow Mountain®. The views expressed herein are the responsibility of the author and do not necessarily represent the position of Shadow Mountain.
All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Eden, Sarah M., author.
Hope Springs / Sarah M. Eden.
pages cm—(Longing for home ; book 2)
Summary: Irish-born Kate Macauley is caught in the feud that is raging between the American farmers and the Irish immigrants in the small Wyoming town of Hope Springs. She is also torn between loving two very different men.
ISBN 978-1-60907-810-2 (paperbound)
1. Irish American women—Fiction. 2. Nativism—Fiction. 3. Wyoming, setting. 4. Nineteenth century, setting. I. Title. II. Series: Eden, Sarah M. Longing for home ; bk. 2.
PS3605.D45365H67 2014
813'.6—dc232013033356
Printed in the United States of America
Publisher’s Printing, Salt Lake City, UT
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To Lois, Sarah Elva, Dora, Zelda, Barbara, and Ginny
Women of faith and determination,
who have shown me what it means
to be good and to be strong
Other Proper Romances
Longing for Home
by Sarah M. Eden
Edenbrooke
by Julianne Donaldson
Blackmoore
by Julianne Donaldson
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Acknowledgments
Discussion Questions
About the Author
Chapter One
However fine the day, night must eventually fall. Katie Macauley knew that truth well. For every bit of joy she’d known, life had served her an ever-increasing portion of pain and grief. Her Irish heart was just stubborn enough to keep going despite it all and just foolish enough to believe someday the balance would tip in her favor.
Finding a home amongst her displaced countrymen in a tiny town far from nowhere in the dry and unforgiving vastness of the American West seemed a fine argument in favor of optimism. Logic told her the odds of that happening were far too slim to be anything but a gift of fate. And yet the town of Hope Springs wasn’t without its problems—it had a great many problems, in fact.
“Michael, bring the butter crock, lad. We’re eating without your father if he’s not here in another five minutes.” Biddy, Katie’s dearest friend in all the world, gave her a look of utter exasperation.
Katie set out the last of the dinner plates. She’d been invited to have her evening meal with Biddy and her family, an offer she appreciated more than any of them realized. Though she worked for a family who treated her with kindness and had the heart of a wonderful man—Biddy’s brother-in-law, in fact—she often felt alone.
“Put the spoon in the colcannon, Mary,” Biddy told her little girl. “Then fetch the soda bread, if you will.”
Colcannon and soda bread. ’Twas a bit of the Emerald Isle thousands of miles from Ireland.
Biddy crossed to the narrow front window.
Katie joined her there, looking out at the dimming light of dusk.
“Never fear, Biddy. Tavish’ll round Ian up and bring him home to make his apologies.”
“And not a moment too soon, it seems.” Biddy looked back toward the rough-hewn table, where little Mary was carefully setting down the plate of soda bread. “Thank you, love. Now you and Michael go wash your hands.”
“With soap?” Mary clearly hoped the answer was no.
“Aye. Soap, and plenty of it.” Biddy eyed both her children. “On with the two of you, then.” She shook her head at their retreating backs. “I swear to you, Katie, they’d eat out in the muddy fields if I’d let them.”
“And return to the house so filthy you could toss them against a wall and they’d stick,” Katie added.
Biddy smiled, as Katie had hoped she would. But just as quickly as the lightness appeared, it faded. She set one hand on her hip and rubbed her forehead with the other. Her gaze lingered at the window.
“I am certain all’s well.” Katie spoke with all the conviction she could muster, but Biddy’s worries were beginning to settle heavy on her as well. Tavish had left over an hour earlier and could easily have gone to town and back in that time.
As if making a finely timed entrance, the turning of wagon wheels and the pounding of hooves sounded from the yard.
“At last,” Biddy breathed and made her way to the door. She pulled it open. “The two of you had best—” Biddy’s eyes opened in shock, her words ending abruptly.
Katie moved swiftly to the doorway. Tavish was climbing over the back of the wagon bench to the bed. She was certain it was the look on his face that had silenced Biddy. His mouth was drawn in a tense line, his eyes snapping with something very much like anger, and also a great deal of fear.
“What’s happened?” Katie called out.
“Come help me,” he answered. “Quick, Katie.”
Biddy stepped out with her.
“Just Katie.” Tavish’s voice was insistent, sharp almost. Katie had seldom heard Tavish sound anything but jovial.
“Something’s happened, Katie,” Biddy whispered. “Something bad.”
Katie gave her hand a quick, and she hoped reassuring, squeeze. She too sensed the tension in Tavish. “I am sure all will be fine.” She didn’t fully believe it, but could think of nothing else to say.
Alone she moved quickly over the short distance to the waiting wagon. Tavish had made his way to the back and offered a hand to help her up.
“What’s happened?” she asked again, her voice low.
Ian was nowhere to be seen. The wagon was empty except for a few crates and a messy pile of blankets.
“Why’ve you returned without Ian?”
“I haven’t.” He spoke too solemnly for Katie’s peace of mind.
Tavish took hold of the nearest corner of the blanket and tossed it back.
Heavens above. ’Twas Ian beneath the blanket. Ian, bloodied and bruised and unmoving. Katie’s very breath rushed from her. Saints preserve us.
“Keep calm, Sweet Katie. Biddy’ll need you to be strong.”
Katie struggled to find air enough to speak. “Is he dead?” she whispered.
“He was still breathing when I found him. But he’s in a bad way.”
He was, indeed. The man’s face was swollen, discolored. She’d never seen anyone lie so utterly still. “Had he an accident with the wagon, or was he thrown from a horse or something?”
Tavish shook his head. The man generally wore smiles with mirthful twinkles in his deep blue eyes. Katie was not at all accustomed to seeing him somber.
“I’d wager my entire farm he was set upon by a mob.”
Katie’s heart fell clear to her feet. “A mob? Good heavens. Who’d do such a thing?”
And yet, she knew the answer. Hope Springs was ten years deep in a feud. Half the town was Irish. The other half hated the Irish with a passion. So, the Irish had opted to return the sentiment and hate their neighbors with equal fervor.
She set her hand lightly at Ian’s heart. His chest rose and fell faintly, as though his breath was hardly there. “I’m worried for him, Tavish.”
“And it’s right you should be. He needs doctoring.”
Katie glanced quickly at the doorway. Little Mary and Michael had joined their mother. The three of them looked on with fearful expressions.
Merciful heavens. Someone had beaten the father of these children to within an inch of his life. Beyond, perhaps.
“How bad is this feud likely to become?”
He set his hand lightly on her arm, his eyes heavy with worry. “Oh, Sweet Katie, this is only the beginning.”
She pushed out a tense breath. Her eyes settled on Ian once more. “What do you need me to do, Tavish?”
“I can carry Ian in. But I’m worried for Biddy. Stick close to her side, Katie. Keep her going. And the children will need you as well.”
Katie nodded. She slid to the back of the wagon and climbed down. Keep calm, Katie. Your friends need you.
She walked to where Biddy stood, watching with wide eyes.
“Michael,” Katie said, “take your sister inside.”
The lad must have sensed the urgency of the situation because he obeyed without hesitation.
“Katie?” Biddy whispered.
Katie took her hands. “Ian’s been terribly injured. He’s in a bad way.”
Biddy’s eyes darted to the wagon. Katie looked back as well. Tavish slowly walked toward them, struggling under the weight of Ian in his arms.
“Merciful heavens.” Biddy’s voice cracked with panicked emotion. “My Ian!”
She rushed down the porch step and toward her husband’s limp frame.
“Ian. Talk to me, please, dearest. Please, Ian.” Her voice shook as she pleaded with him. “Ian, darling. Ian?”
“Biddy, I have to lay him down,” Tavish pleaded, attempting to continue toward the house despite Biddy blocking his path.
Katie put an arm around her friend’s shoulders and pulled her out of the way. Biddy continued calling her husband’s name, the word growing more indistinguishable as sobs racked her body. She fought to be freed of Katie’s hold. But Tavish needed an unobstructed path into the house.
Katie walked with Biddy, swiftly, behind Tavish. But one step inside, Biddy’s knees gave way. She crumbled, burying her face in her hands.
Katie knelt and wrapped her arms around Biddy.
“We’ll do all we can for him,” she promised.
“I can’t lose him, Katie. I couldn’t bear it. I can’t live without him.”
Katie held her even closer, her heart breaking. How quickly everything had changed.
Chapter Two
Katie had a long-standing acquaintance with death. She recognized its icy breath slithering down the back of her neck as she tended to Ian. The air hung heavy with the very real possibility that he would never awaken.
Biddy had refused to leave Ian’s side, not allowing herself even a moment’s rest since the evening before. But the long hours had taken a toll. She’d dropped off into a fitful sleep in the same chair she’d occupied for the last twenty-four hours, her hand still holding Ian’s.
Katie laid a cool, damp cloth over his badly swollen right eye. They’d no ice left, only cold water from the river. She hummed a quiet and gentle tune. Music soothed her; it always had. If she hadn’t had some tune to help her through her ministrations, she’d have been weeping out of frustration and exhaustion. The past twenty-four hours had felt like twenty-four days.
“How is Ian this evening?”
She looked up at the sound of Joseph Archer’s voice. How the man managed to sneak up on her unnoticed time and again, she’d never know.
“Much the same,” she answered. “His breathing is steady and deep. His pulse continues on as it should. He moves about now and then, but he doesn’t talk or seem aware of any of us. He hasn’t opened his eyes.”
Joseph stopped beside her, looking down at Ian. “I would be surprised if he was able to open his eyes, considering how swollen his face is.”
Katie had told herself as much again and again as she’d tended to Ian. ’Twas as if he hovered just on the other side of awareness, unable to cross that divide.
“Ian’s a peaceable man. Why would the Red Road do this to him? There are so many others who jump into every fray, who antagonize the Reds at every opportunity.” She immediately realized how that might be taken. “Not that I would wish this on any person.” ’Twas exactly the kind of phrase her mother would have crossed herself while saying.
Joseph shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, his eyes never leaving Ian. “Hate is never logical.”
She slumped in her chair, too tired to even sit up straight. She pushed out a deep and weary breath. Pain pulsed in her temples.
Joseph sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, facing her. “When did you last eat?”
She rubbed at her gritty eyes a moment, thinking. “We got a bit of broth down Ian an hour ago.”
“I didn’t ask how long ago Ian ate. I asked about you.”
“Mrs. O’Connor saw to it we all had something to eat before she had to go.”
“How are you holding up?” He leaned his bent arms on his legs. There were moments, like now, when his eyes seemed to look into her soul, searching out answers for themselves.
“I am so very tired, Joseph. And worry is gnawing at me. I’m so turned about I can’t say whether it’s on my head or on my heels I’m standing.”
He reached out a hand, gently brushing his fingers over hers before seeming to recollect himself and pulling back once more. He often did just that, as though a comforting touch were the most natural thing in the world—until he remembered who she was.
She’d sat in that room alone, fretting for hours on end. The O’Connor family, in their distress, had turned to one another for comfort. Though the need felt selfish, she’d longed for someone to reach out to her, to touch her, even for a moment. That he’d pulled back so quickly, so entirely, only deepened her loneliness.
“I’ll sit with Ian,” Joseph said. “You need to rest.”
A surge of guilt rushed over her at the thought of walking away from her duties in the sickroom. “Mrs. O’Connor means to come take my place in a bit, as it is. I can wait until then.”
“Mrs. O’Connor will not begrudge you a moment’s respite, Katie.”
While that was, no doubt, true, Katie couldn’t help feeling as though she would be breaking a promise by stepping away.
Joseph sat, watching her, as though he had nowhere else in the entire world to be and nothing else to do with his time. Clearly he meant to sit there until she gave over.
“I suppose a moment away wouldn’t be going back on my word entirely.” She rose from her chair. “And you’ll be here to tend to Ian, so it’s not as if I’m abandoning him alt
ogether.”
“Oh, were you expecting me to stay here?” Joseph sounded surprised, though the slightest hint of a smile tipped his mouth, enough to add something resembling laughter to his expression.
She shook her head, feeling a touch of amusement creeping over her own face. Joseph Archer could frustrate her like no one else, but he did, on occasion, make her smile in spite of herself.
“You’ll not be too put out with me, will you, for having your dinner on the table late again tonight?” She’d not been so remiss in her housekeeping duties at the Archer home in all the months she’d been with them as she had since Ian’s injury. “I know it’s hard on the girls to be hungry longer than they’re accustomed.”
He shrugged as he moved to the chair she’d just left. “If they complain too loudly, I can always fire you again.”
They’d worn that teasing comment near to threads. That he’d fired her twice on her first day in Hope Springs had become a source of amusement to them both. She knew he valued her and the work she did too much to let her go so carelessly. She would be moving out in another month’s time as it was; his new housekeeper was set to arrive then.
“And wouldn’t I just love to see you try to get on without me.” She pointed a finger at him. “You’d be pained with hunger and your clothes too filthy for company. Let that teach you to appreciate me.”
Though Joseph faced the bed, Katie could see enough of his face to tell he smiled.
’Twas good to be needed. She’d been in service from the time she was eight, but until coming to Hope Springs, she’d never been anything important to anyone.
She pushed aside the colorful quilt hanging in the doorway of Biddy and Ian’s bedroom and stepped out. The first time she’d visited Biddy’s home, it had been filled with smiles and laughter and joy. Now, it sat quiet and empty, a testament to the somber state of things. For a moment she’d forgotten how bad things truly were. A young father lay in the next room, beaten nearly to death. Half a town lived in constant worry over who would be next.
The front door opened, something that had happened again and again during the past day and a half. The O’Connor clan was plentiful and close-knit. All of Ian’s siblings had come by many times, and his parents had only left his house to return to their own in order to sleep and tend to the most necessary chores on their farm.
Hope Springs (Longing for Home - book 2, A Proper Romance) Page 1
